


Dancing

by WillowRoseBrook



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alien Sex, F/M, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, telepathic bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowRoseBrook/pseuds/WillowRoseBrook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the Doctor was apologizing, hand in his hair. “Telepathic barriers low for some reason. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”<br/>“What happened?” she asked, leaning back against the console. She couldn’t place the sensation, warm and almost like electricity. Couldn’t tell if she had enjoyed or if she felt violated.<br/>The Doctor’s hand stayed in his hair, his gaze focused on the floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rose stumbled in through the door of the TARDIS laughing, tripping on the dragging skirts of the dress she was wearing. The Doctor stepped in after her and shut the door. He was grinning, out of breath, too.  
“Maybe we should make it a rule that even the clothes I wear to fancy dinners I should be able to run in,” she gasped. “At least the shoes. Even, or maybe especially when, you promise that there isn’t going to be any danger.”  
“Noted.” The Doctor waltzed past her and shed his coat. “Or maybe we should stop being so jeopardy friendly.”  
Rose laughed.  
“Well, we both know there’s not a chance at that.”  
They’d left an Opsan gala, where humanoid beings covered in a thick grey-ish fuzz had sipped bubbling liquid and danced to music with such fluidity that Rose couldn’t keep her eyes away. She and the Doctor had joined in, somewhat shyly at first, but the music had been intoxicating, and they’d found themselves swept away in the moment. Unfortunately, there’d been an incident with a punch bowl and the psychic paper had read something that made the guards dive forwards and the Doctor cringe before sliding it into his pocket.  
They had run, across a courtyard and around a silvery pond, to reach the TARDIS. Rose had lost a shoe to the muck and her dress was torn in several places. The Doctor was, as usual, fine.  
“Hm,” said the Doctor. “Wasn’t even a close one. Where’s the fun in that?”  
Rose shook her head at him, tongue in cheek.  
“Were you trying to cause a incident?”  
“Weelllll, the party was getting a little boring,” he speculated. “But no. I liked dancing with you.” Neither of them gave pause; Rose just smiled softly. They had moments where they could do that now, say those things without covering up and laughing.  
“Weeeellllll,” she said, echoing his earlier tone. “There’s no reason we have to stop.”  
“What?”  
“Dancing. Here”  
He gave her that grin that meant, ‘Rose, you are brilliant ‘, and took her by the hand.  
“Music?” he asked.  
“Nah.”  
The real joy in dancing came in moving with him. They’d come far, across worlds and galaxies, since the first time they’d done it. Both’d changed so much. He’d grown bolder, especially in recent months, and that she liked more than she would be willing to admit out loud.  
His hand arm found her waist, snaked around to the small of her back. She picked his other up in hers, and they began the dance, slow and close and oh so intimate, alone on the grating of the TARDIS.  
“Who did you tell ‘em we were?” she asked, meeting his eyes.  
“Hm?”  
“The guards who chased us. They obviously weren’t satisfied with your authority. What did the psychic paper say?”  
“Oh, that.” His voice came out high pitched and he pursed his lips, cocking his head to the side. “Didn’t work.”  
“Didn’t work?”  
“Yeah, something to do with the telepathic capabilities of the species and the…temporal resistance in the room. No big problem, shouldn’t happen again.”  
“Hm.” They were silent. The Doctor’s cheeks were flushed, and she knew that she had caught him in a lie. “I though maybe you told them we were the ministers of punch.”  
“S’good idea,” he conceded with a smile. She let it slide.  
They didn’t need to talk, not really. It was fine to just sway back and forth with her head on his chest, his hand gently moving across her back. His fingers found a tear, quite by accident, and she raised her eyebrows although he couldn’t see her face. His hand brushed bare skin in a way that made it hard so suppress a shiver. And then, a sudden jolt of something, unexpected and wonderful, that made her gasp aloud. They both jumped back. She found herself wanting more.  
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the Doctor was apologizing, hand in his hair. “Telepathic barriers low for some reason. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”  
“What happened?” she asked him, leaning back against the console. She couldn’t place the sensation, warm and almost like electricity. Couldn’t tell if she had enjoyed or if she felt violated. Something she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around.  
The Doctor’s hand stayed in his hair, his gaze focused on the floor.  
“Time Lords are touch telepaths, remember. So things like that can happen. When we don’t have full control.”  
Rose pushed herself up into a standing position.  
“And why don’t you have control? Is something wrong Doctor?” He didn’t answer. “Are…you sick? Hurt?” Please no please no please no please—  
“Nothing’s wrong.”  
“Why then? It didn’t seem dangerous,” she pressed. “Is this why the psychic paper didn’t work earlier?” He didn’t answer. She shifted closer. “I don’t mind.”  
She took the final step forward into his arms and he pulled her suffocatingly tight against him.  
“Rose,” he whispered. “Rose.”  
“Mm.”  
“Get out the psychic paper. Don’t touch it. Should still say what it said earlier. It’s been in my pocket afterall.”  
She reached down into his coat pocket, bigger on the inside like anything else, and managed to grasp the little blue tablet. She withdrew it, and saw the Doctor’s eyes close.  
Rose Tyler. If you knew how beautiful you are. What I want to do to you right now.  
A moment, a thought, frozen in time. Her heart was pounding faster than it had been when they’d been running from the guards. She looked up. Waited for his eyes to open.  
“What’d you want to do?”  
He answered by capturing her lips in a kiss, and his mind screamed don’t do it, don’t do it, and she could hear somehow. She responded with fervor. He pulled back but held her in his arms, flushed.  
“I’m so sorry, Rose.”  
“Whatever for?”  
Another kiss, softer this time.  
“I can’t control myself around you anymore, Rose. This isn’t what you wanted, I know. Tell me to stop. I’ll take you home. We’ll say goodbye. I’m so sorry.”  
Her heart broke.  
“Doctor. This is what I want.”  
He shook his head, frustrated.  
“But it’s not. Loving a Time Lord, Rose, it’s forever. It’s a bond and it’s pain and it’s something I can’t put you through.”  
“I know,” she whispered. She’d loved him, if not since “run,” just weeks after that, in little flutters at a time. “Doctor, I’ve fought so hard for you. Don’t hold back if you’re only doing it for me.”  
“You don’t want to go?”  
“Never.”  
“You want me inside your head?”  
She was terrified, but, oh, she did.  
“Yeah.”  
He shook his head again, the awe in his eyes more painful than she could have predicted.  
“Haven’t you known I loved you?”  
“Hoped. Known. But couldn’t assume.”  
“I said forever.”  
He brought his hands to her face, gently. His thumbs stroked her cheeks and she could see the concentration it took for him to hold back.  
“Time Lords. Around their bond mates, get closer and closer, and more and more out of control.”  
“Bond mates?”  
“Prospective at least. I’d have stayed away forever, but my physiology wouldn’t let me. “  
She pulled back, her expression calculated.  
“You would’ve?”  
“For you.”  
She didn’t, couldn’t know what to say. So instead she stepped back into his embrace, brought his hands to her face. He was unprepared, and the soft electricity echoed through.  
“Rose!”  
“Please.”  
The feeling of his mind pushing into hers was unnerving, but she couldn’t have cared less.  
I love you, she thought, hoping that it worked like that. I love you I love you I love you and this is how much.  
Rose.  
The echo in her head made her flinch, almost hurt.  
Sorry.  
S’fine.  
Rose, Rose, Rose.  
She shivered at the way he repeated her name, a thought, a silvery tendril.  
You okay? Can you take more?  
More?  
He nodded, or maybe just thought it, and she took a deep breath.  
Yeah. Ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.  
The flood of emotions crashed over her suddenly, despite the desperate control she felt him trying to keep in his mind. She saw what he felt, felt what he felt. Their consciousnesses tangled, and it was overwhelming, but she had never felt something so beautiful.  
Can you—?  
Feel you. From the moment my hand brushed your back.  
She winced internally at the things she had been thinking at the time. Of course, nothing was internal now, and she could feel the Doctor’s mind burn bright at her thought.  
Why not when we hold hands?  
Concentration. It’s hard, take’s a lot of focus.”  
He pulled back, suddenly, and her mind felt the loss.  
“Wha—“  
“Sorry,” he gasped, pulling her close. “Starting to hurt.” His face was flushed, his breathing labored, and so was hers, but he was a Time Lord.  
“Why?”  
“I—my mind is wanting to initiate a bond.”  
“I want that.”  
He rocked his hips against hers, with intention.  
“It’s more complicated than that. And I want to give you time to think on it.”  
She shuddered. He turned to leave, and Rose couldn’t bear it.  
“Doctor, I have thought. I’ve had years to think. I’m staying forever. And I want this.”  
He turned back.  
“You’d be my mate, Rose,” and the way he said it it lost any meaning as buddy or pal, became intertwined with the verb, the most primal of things.  
“And I want that, too!” This time she moved closer, rocked her hips with intention. “What was I thinking when we were dancing, when you slipped? What could you feel in my mind when you were in there?”  
He shuddered.  
“Rose.”  
“I want this.”  
He didn’t respond; he lifted her up into his arms and carried her down the hallway. He put her down outside a conveniently located door and she latched onto his lips, his barely leaving hers as they spilled in through the door.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor’s room. A bed, a table. A closet door, and a pile of computer bits.

He pushed her against the wall, and now that he had her pinned, his hands began to wander. Down, over her hips, over the torn, shimmering fabric of her dress. Rose took a deep breath and let go. She pressed her body into his as they kissed, walked him back towards the bed. They didn’t make it halfway before he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips, clinging to his strong, wiry frame. She rocked her hips against his and he spun around to drop her onto the bed, falling with her to pin her there, too, like he was scared she would run if he let go.

“Clothes,” Rose gasped, pushing him off of her. Her hands went to her zipper.

“Let me.”

She sat with her back to him and his hands skimmed their way up to her covered shoulder blades. He pulled the zipper down in one smooth motion and then rocked back.

“Skin,” he whispered. “On skin.”

_Not quite yet,_ she thought. She let the dress fall from her shoulders, but held the top up with one hand.

“You too,” she murmured, and she let the dress fall as his hands went the buttons on his jacket and then shirt.

She could feel his eyes on her, burning. Hers went to his face, a soft smile with eyes aglow, and then his body, almost as bare as her own.

“Rose,” he whispered, and she leaned forward to fall into his arms, but he moved back. “Rose. Skin on skin. Telepathic touch. Going to be a lot of it.”

“S’okay,” she assured him, and pulled his hands to her shoulders. She felt that electric buzz immediately. It almost burned.

However affected she was, the Doctor was infinitely more so. His eyes drifted shut and she could feel him at war with his body, wanting to give in and let go, not wanting to scare her. Somehow, she could feel everything, and it burned like a thousand suns. It was wonderful.

She pushed him down to the bed, straddling him, and they lost some points of contact. Their eyes met for a moment, but the Doctor’s fluttered back closed.

“Rose, are you sure?” he whispered. So close. She leaned down so their faces were almost touching.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” She kissed him, and he responded fervently, finally letting go. His hands tangled roughly in her hair as he pulled her closer. Their bodies were aligned, abdomens crushed against each other, and he had barely touched her, but Rose could hardly breathe. His hands explored her body, lighting little fires everywhere they touched. They drifted down her neck, tingling, and found her lower back. He pulled her hips to his own and Rose pulled her head back.

He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes. Nothing had ever been this exciting.

Rose shifted to the side so the Doctor could remove his trousers. He did so, cursing as they tangled with his legs, and removed his underwear as well. Rose sat back and took in the sight of him. Keeping her hand on his arm, maintaining that buzz.

His chest was covered with a light dusting of hair that fell in a trail as it traveled downwards. She kept her eyes above the waistline, biting her lip, meeting his eyes. A soft, knowing smile played on his lips. She looked down.

He looked human enough. A long, smooth shaft that tapered to the end. The Doctor did not seem embarrassed under her scrutiny. His gaze was almost predatory as their eyes met again, and he tackled her to the bed with a playful growl. His hands went to her breasts, first, and there was that tingling that she was beginning to love so much. Every time they touched, she gasped, and she could feel the smugness radiating off of him with every labored breath she took. He spent time tracing his fingers around the outlines, then brought his hands down to her hips.

“Off,” he said, and Rose gladly helped him divest her of the last remaining scrap of cloth. It was his turn to take her in. The huge grin on his face told that he found her satisfactory. She laughed, tongue touching her teeth. He kissed her again, with fervor, and his fingers found her slit. At first he controlled the tingling, just sliding his hand through her folds. It was enough to make Rose keen. She’d wanted this for so long, wanted him. When he found her clit, there was a jolt of that magic, and she let out a sob. He pulled back, grinning.

They sat apart for a moment, panting, not touching. The Doctor’s eyes searched her own.

“How do we form a bond, Doctor?” she asked softly.

“Simple.” He whispered. “It’ll happen when I’m in you.” A satisfied smile. “Body and soul.”

He climbed back over her gently, rested his hands against her temples.

“I love you, Rose.” He said it aloud and then he was in her mind again, a rush of thoughts and emotions. Everything he felt, she felt. His love for her, his throbbing need. Rose was close to hyperventilating, but she let the sensation wash over her. She let go of herself. There was no Rose. No Doctor. Just them, together, in the shared space of their minds.

_Ready?_ It was an echo, and Rose swallowed hard.

_So ready._

He left one hand resting against her cheek, brought the other down to stabilize himself against the bed. Their lips met, gently. Their breath mingled.

He parted her folds with his cock, sliding smoothly into the warm embrace of her body. He hissed. She hissed.

And then she felt it.

There was some tendril, in the far off corner of their shared minds, warm and glowing, and descending around them. As he began to rock against her, Rose wasn’t sure if she had her eyes open or closed. That tingling touch, everywhere, everywhere. She felt her own pleasure, and what the Doctor felt of her.

_Rose. So good._

“So good just to feel your mind,” he said aloud, sounding desperate. She gasped in affirmation, trying to bring her love to the center of his mind. He rocked against her, and she felt that tendril again. Her nerve endings seemed to explode, tangle with his as he set a steady rhythm. Rose dug her fingers into his back, gasping,

“Doctor!”

Her muscles clenched desperately around him, her hands went to his peferct hair, down his back.

Their bodies connected and their minds overlapped entirely. The tendril was a golden string, two timelines intertwined, permanently.

_Forever,_ she thought.

_Forever._

The world was the stars and sensation. Her body was tense, coiled, ready to spring. Everything was warm and hands and desperate and love.

“Close,” the Doctor panted. “So close, oh, Rose.”

She rocked back against him, hands pulling his body tightly against her own.

_I love you,_ she thought, _I love you forever and always and as wide as the universe itself._

She came with a cry, and the tight grip of her walls pushed the Doctor over the edge. Her eyes were squeezed tight so shut as she bucked against him that all she could see was white, but her mind was golden. He clutched her, hands roaming without purpose, just to feel her there. She wasn’t sure how long the echo of her pleasure, his pleasure lasted. His head rested against her own. Rose had never felt so warm, so exhausted, so intimate. She basked in the glow, and when he tried to pull his consciousness, she didn’t let him go. He didn’t protest.

He had the whole universe in his mind, but having Rose Tyler made that a little less unbearable.

Keeping her tight against him, he rolled onto his side. Their bodies were still pressed together, the earlier buzz now a constant, indescribable warmth. Both kept their eyes closed, breathing.

“S’beautiful,” Rose whispered. They stayed like that, in an almost sleep, so content in the warmth and the gold and the loss of themselves, their love for eachother.

            


End file.
